Chapter 9
The guards have come to the realization that you enjoy most of the abuse they've been heaping on you. That led them to start searching out more and more depraved ways to torture and use you, in hope of finding your breaking point.
One of them stumbled across the work of Dolcett on the internet and wondered if they could do it to you.
As much as the idea of impaling you on a spit and roasting you alive sounded like fun they decided they have to keep you alive. Too much paperwork if you die. And besides they're having far too much fun torturing you to have it end so soon.
Instead, they decide that they are going to impale you in the spit and roast you but only for half an hour.
There's a company picnic coming up for the 4th of July so it's the perfect time to barbecue you.
The picnic is being held in a clearing in the woods. It's warm and sunny and all the guards are relaxed, drinking, and happy. It would be a wholesome scene except for the naked sissy slut bound to the trees at the edge of the clearing. Standing, spread eagled, wrists and ankles tied to two trees.
The fire pit has been lit. They're just waiting for the fire to burn down and the coals to get hot.
While you're waiting to be "cooked" the warm summer breezes caress your naked, slutty, thicc body. Your nipples have grown hard, and your pathetic little cock is starting to stir too.
As the fire starts to die down your untied and led to the picnic table and told to climb up onto it. On your hands and knees, ass in the air, they start to prepare you for roasting.
Your hair is soaked and tied up. Herbs and onions are shoved into your boipussy. For flavour. An apple is pushed into your mouth. Not so much for flavour but only to make you look a like a roasting piglet.
They make you lay flat on the table and a large, round, stake is laid the length of your body. Ropes soon secure you to it. A wooden Frame is laid across your shoulders and you're soon bound to it as well. Lastly, a thick, long wooden stake is pushed deep into your gaping cunt and attached to the spit.
The entire time they're preparing you the guards talk about you in the 3rd person. They refer to you as "her" sometimes, but usually, "it".
Two burly guards grab each end of the spit and hoist you off the table. It's uncomfortable, but not quite painful. More than anything it's humiliating. You're a piece of meat, yet again, for their amusement. This time quite literally.
The heat hits you immediately when they put the spit in its rack. A small motor is going to rotate you over the fire, just like a fucking animal to be consumed.
It doesn't take long for the heat to start making you dizzy and light headed. It's also turning you on.
The heat licking at your useless cock with each rotation. The guards laughing at you and enjoying the spectacle.
After a few minutes they break out the barbecue sauce and start pouring it all over your limp body. Covering you, head to toe in sticky sweet sauce. A bottle gets shoved up your ass and the sauce pours in to mix with the other ingredients already inside you.
You've lost track of time. You're hoping you don't have to endure too much more. You can feel your cock and balls starting to singe. Your tits are glowing hot. The pain is becoming almost too much to take. Your screams and pleading are muffled by the apple in your mouth. Not that any of them would take pity and offer you relief.
The last thing you remember hearing, before you passed out, is one of them saying "Three more minutes and then we'll take the meat off the fire."
You're awakened by a bucket of cold water being thrown on you. Every inch of your body feels like it's been sunburnt. To make matters worse you're covered in sticky sweet barbecue sauce.
The guards want to get you cleaned up a little before the next stage of the festivities bit there's no hose to spray you down with. Then a brilliant idea emerges.
You're tossed on the ground, still tied to the spit, and the four dogs that have been hanging around are called over. They quickly begin licking the sticky sweet sauce off of you. Their rough tongues dragging across your burnt body is agonizing. Because you're a sick fuck, you like it. You start to moan and wiggle around to give the dogs access to more of you. Especially your pathetic little cock.
A couple of the guards notice what you're doing and start to laugh. They point out to everyone that you're fucking enjoying it. Everyone agrees that you're the most depraved, filthy, amoral, piece of fuck meat they've ever seen. They're excited about it. It means they can do anything to you. No matter how depraved, degrading, disgusting, violent, or taboo.
While they are chatting about what to do next, one of the dogs lifts his leg and starts pissing on you. The hot stream feels scalding on your burnt skin. It splashes across your stomach and chest. Some of it gets up around your neck and you open your mouth, hoping to be able to drink some of it to relieve your incredible thirst.
Everyone has gone silent, watching in amazement. When the second dog starts pissing on your chest you wiggle around to take it in the face. The hot dog piss in your mouth giving you relief from the thirst and a fantastic thrill at being able to be so fucking filthy. It's at that moment that the last 2 dogs start pissing all over your hard, but pathetic, cock. Your moans of pleasure leave the guards, and their wives, laughing and cheering.
Because it's the 4th of July the guards have brought along a bunch of flags, firecrackers and decorations to celebrate the day.
The dogs have licked you clean and lost interest in pissing on you so everyone is looking for a new amusement.
It's time to do some decorating.
You're untied from the spit and another bucket of ice cold water is thrown on your limp body. As you lay there, dazed, aroused, humiliated, you wonder what fucked up thing they could possibly have in mind.
A kick to the ribs gets you on your back. A couple more kicks and you're spread eagle in the grass.
One of the wives has brought a bunch of small flags. The paper ones with a wooden stick. She wants to shove them in your piss hole. The only problem is you've gone limp. It would be much easier if your clit was hard. It only takes her a moment to figure out how to get you hard again. She drops her panties, lifts her dress, squats over your face and starts to piss. It works like a charm. You can't help yourself. You open your slut mouth and drink it all down as quickly as you can. The shame and humiliation does what it was intended to do. Your useless cock is nice and hard again.
With her cunt still firmly pressed to your face she begins sliding the stick of the flag down into your cock. You're so embarrassed and ashamed at how much you're loving this treatment.
She manages to push two more flags into your pisshole. As she hops off your face she tells you to get the fuck up. You're exhausted and hesitant. A quick kick in the head and a slap across the face gets your moving. Your struggle to your feet.
She instructs you to show everyone how patriotic you are and to start waving the flags. Your efforts aren't even close to what she wants and she kicks you in the ass, over and over, making you stumble around, and making your faggot clit wiggle. The laughter from the crowd is so fucking humiliating and you wonder what the fuck is wrong with you that you love it.
That's when someone suggests that they should tun you into a proper flag pole.
Chapter 10

Having grown tired of watching your futile attempts to wave the little flags jammed in your pisshole the wives have decided to turn you into a “proper” flag pole.

A shovel is tossed at your feet and you’re ordered to start digging. They want a hole two feet deep and 3 feet wide. And you had better hurry the fuck up. Your efforts are decent to being but because of all the abuse you’ve endured so far today you start to tire and slow down. A crack of the whip then the sting as it bites into your ass. You dig faster. Another crack and another stripe across your sissy ass. You don’t speed up digging but your clit starts to involuntarily grow. This prompts laughter and ridicule from the guards, and particularly, the women. They can’t believe just how much of a pathetic, pain and abuse craving, sissy slut you really are.

Before too long the hole is complete. She shoves you to your knees at the edge of the hole, facing it. Turning to one of the other wives she says, “Jenn, bring the big flag and pole over here. We’re going to do this up right. Real patriotic.” She shoves you forward, so that you fall into the hole. Because of the size of the hole only your upper body fits. Your ass is in the air, sticking straight up. Completely gaping and exposed.

As she hands over the flagpole Jenn says, “I don’t think it’s going to fit. It’s way to big.” It’s not going to matter if it’s too big or not. One way or another it’s going in your cunt. Lubed, dry. No one cares.

The fat, wooden, flag pole is pushed up against the entrance to your cunt and pressure is slowly applied. It’s starting to work its way in. You do your best to relax and push out, to get the pole in your cunt without too much pain and tearing. It helps, but there is still so much of the huge pole to go.

She starts to lose patience with the progress and starts shoving harder and harder. Your cries for her to please stop are, obviously, ignored and you’re told to shut the fuck up and take it. You’re reminded that you’re only there to entertain them. Your pain doesn’t matter. Besides, she says, your hard clit says you’re enjoying it. She makes you admit you like it. You have to yell, loudly, for everyone to hear, that you like having the flag pole shoved up your ass.

Jenn starts to help. Between the two of them they’re able to force the pole deep into your cunt. Judging by how full you feel, you think there’s about two feet of hard wood up inside you. You’re ashamed of yourself for being proud of how much you can take.

Once it’s firmly in place a flag is attached to pole. It gently unfurls in the breeze. The wind playing with the cloth makes the pole move around in your cunt, pushing it from side to side. It feels like the wind is fucking you.

Your told that you cannot let the flag fall. It’s disrespectful. If it falls you’ll be beaten unconscious.
The group goes back to drinking, snacking and playing games, leaving you there. An object to amuse them.
After about half an hour you notice the dogs are sniffing around you, curious as to why you’re there. Realizing you’re not moving much they conclude you’re not a person and start pissing on you, like they would any tree, bush or shrub. At first they piss on your ass, because the flag pole is a natural place for them to piss. Eventually though they piss on your shoulders, back and face. Because you’re in the hole it’s really convenient for them to piss all over you.
Everyone sees it happening but there’s no way they’re going to stop it. It’s way too funny. Hell, not only are they not going to stop it, they’re going to join in. For the next hour you endure an almost non-stop rain of piss. All over your back and ass, all over the back of your head. In your face. So much in your face. Each time someone pisses in your face you open your mouth and drink in as much as you’re able. You try to be subtle about it so they don’t see you drinking it but eventually you’re caught. It’s decided that if you’re going to do that you might was well be a urinal for them for the rest of the evening. From that point on all of the piss, and theres so much because of all the beer drinking, is aimed at your mouth.
The sun is starting to fade from the sky. The coming darkness signals the next stage of the days festivities. The fireworks display is going to be amazing this year!

About fifteen years ago I belonged to a video mailing list called "Goosebump Graphics" and there was a video series of an abusive boyfriend beating his girlfriend with abusive sex, bordering on rape. She cried pretty much the entire video. It looked pretty real, pretty grainy, as he just stuck the camera in the corner and went to town on her. Each video lasted about 60 minutes. The only distinguishing thing I remember about the video and bedroom is the bed was right next to a large wooden drawer with a huge mirror. I only saw three of them, now can't find any of my tapes, and the site is defunct. It's a long shot but anyone seen this series and know where to find it?

I was spanked by my ex-mistress´ mother in law.

Long story short, we were in a cuckolding relationship, and she wanted to prove her I wasn´t really an alpha, which she knew because I met her before in the BDSM community, where she is a gorgeous dominatrix milf and I´m switch. She sometimes spanked her daughter in law fully naked in front of her husband.

She was disgusted about her son being a so submissive cuckold (I banned him from penetrate her, and he was willing to let me knock her up), so she cited me to her apartment one night, with the excuse of discussing the matter, among my lover and her hubby. When I came, she ordered me to get fully undressed and lean over her lap, which I submissively did. She spanked me with a wooden palette in front of them, and make me count every stroke. They were 50. I was aroused the whole time. Then she had my lover getting undressed and being spanked 50 times, too. She then told her son she didn´t want to be interrupted, and dragged me and my lover to her bedroom, where she fucked me savagely and in a very dominant manner, in front of her daughter in law.

On a pillow talk she confessed it was all a scheme to have me out of the picture, which resulted, since my lover ended up dumping me that very same night, for my domina´s delight. I felt embarassed and humilliated, but, at the same time, aroused by the control she had over me. I kept being her slutboy some time after this incident.

Another Sunday, another Church attendance. 

My fiancée and I went to Chruch. We had plugs in, no panties and were wearing dresses.

We sat at the back, jackets folded in our laps to hide that we were teasing ourselves through the thin fabric.

About halfway through, Fiancée leaned over and dared me to go masturbate in the toilets.

So I slipped away, into the small bathroom. Only 2 stalls, the wooden walls didnt go all the way up or down. So in theory somebody could stand on the other toilet to look over or get down on the floor to look under.

This sense of reduced privacy made me a little nervous which then gave me a rush.

I sat on the cold toilet seat, opened my legs and lifted my dress up. Should somebody peep over or under, they would see clearly what I was doing.

I started rubbing my already sensitive clit, teasing my wet hole, dipping a finger inside a little before returning to my clit.

I repeated this cycle as I imagined people watching me over the wooden walls and found myself heading to a climax quickly.

The tiled floor, walls and ceiling made any noise echo loudly, so I had to make sure to cum quietly, which wasn't easy.

After I finished, I licked my fingers clean, fixed my dress, flushed and returned to my seat with my fiancée.

As I described the experience to her in the car on the way home, she also liked the idea of being spied on. I told her it's her turn next week to masturbate in Church.

And if she's a good girl, I'll follow and peer over the stall to watch.

❤️

Wooden horse Folter

Very hard otk with wooden spoon and mouth soaking corner time

I've been married to Jacqui for five years. We'd been dating for a couple of years before that. Jacqui married me when she was nineteen. We met through our interest in amateur dramatics. Jacqui joined a small theatre company that I was a member of. We rehearse once or twice a week. It wasn't until last year when we got a new director that we started performing more interesting plays. Before it had all been musicals etc, but now we moved onto more adult themes. It wasn't suddenly all sex and violence, but we started doing plays with a bit of nudity or bedroom scenes.

We all enjoyed the change. At first it didn't really affect Jacqui and I as we normally only had small roles but things changed last year when Jacqui was given an important role in a new play. It was only late one evening while we were reading through the script at home that we realised that the role called for Jacqui to appear naked in some scenes. In several others she was required to only wear underwear and towards the end of the play she would get involved in a love scene with the leading actor which would mean him stripping Jacqui first down to just her panties and generally groping her all over and then removing her panties and supposedly making love to her in a bed.

This caused both of us to think deeply as to whether we wanted to be involved in this. In the end we decided that as the play was in good taste and that the love scenes had artistic merit it would be foolish and prudish for Jacqui to say that she wouldn't do them.

I think it actually added a bit of spice to our relationship because certainly later that night as I mounted Jacqui my thoughts were of my pretty, young wife being naked amongst our fellow actors, some of whom we regarded as friends. I think Jacqui found it exciting too because she was very wet when I entered her but, unfortunately, the excitement was too much for me and I came in her after only a couple of minutes. I finished Jacqui off by using my fingers and tongue on her clit and pussy. This is very effective with Jacqui. She has very prominent pussy lips which are very sensitive, they hang at least an inch down from her hole, and her clit is also very visible, standing clearly out from the surrounding folds of skin even before she is aroused.

We both derive great pleasure from the attention I lavish on her pussy lips. I can spend hours sucking and pulling on them to elongate them even further. Jacqui often keeps her pubic mound shaved and this only accentuates her long, hanging lips even further.

It was while I was using my mouth on her that evening that I realised that not only would Jacqui be naked amongst our friends but she would also be revealing to everyone the fact that she shaves her pussy. Strangely I found the thought exciting. It had never occurred to me before that the thought of my wife being seen naked in public and being groped by another man would be erotic to me but we both had a good time in bed that evening.

Over the next few weeks we had many rehearsals and it was kind of strange to see my wife in the arms of another man, in this case the lead actor Ken. We hadn't had a dress rehearsal yet so Jacqui hadn't had to strip off in front of everyone but the thought of her doing this kept us very active in the bedroom.

We were both very excited after coming home one evening after we had spent a few hours rehearsing the scenes where Jacqui has her breasts felt by Ken in the play. Although she had her clothes on for the rehearsal and we were only really going over the dialogue, Ken still used to opportunity to give Jacqui a good feel. From where I stood at the edge of the stage I could see Ken caressing and stroking Jacqui's breasts through her blouse. At one point he ran his hands down over her ass and lifted her short skirt at the back and we could all see his fingers briefly slip inside the edge of her panties. There was no objection from Jacqui and certainly everyone else on the cast was enjoying seeing my pretty wife being felt up by her handsome partner on stage. I was finding this exciting too, and I had plenty of time to watch them as I only had a small part to play in this production.

Each evening when we came home from the hall where we had been practising we would go straight to the bedroom where Jacqui would immediately lay on the bed. I would spend the next hour or so with my face between her thighs as I gnawed and sucked on her juicy cunt lips. Quite often I would not even get to fuck her. Jacqui would have several orgasms while I ate and sucked at her sweet pussy.Sometimes she would rub me off afterwards, sometimes not.

Eventually the time came where we had a full dress rehearsal, or in Jacqui's case it should have been undress rehearsal as she spent most of the day and evening absolutely naked. It was mid morning on a Saturday and the first scene we went through was where Jacqui gets naked out of a bed to meet her on-stage lover Ken. Jacqui arrived on stage wearing a loose gown which came down to mid thigh. I had wondered why the hall was so busy on that morning as at least half of the men present had no real need to be there. I then realised that they had turned up to see my wife strip off on stage. All eyes were on Jacqui when the time came for her to shed the gown and get under the covers. I thought she might have slipped into the bed while still wearing it and then taken it off under the bed covers, but no, she removed it in front of us all and actually stood facing us absolutely naked.

I knew that all the men in the hall were looking at her body, there were about fifteen of us hanging around that Saturday morning. As she stood before us, raised as she was a few feet up on the stage, I knew that I wasn't the only man to let his eyes drift down past her full breasts to her shaven pussy with her cunt lips clearly hanging down between her white thighs.

Jacqui seemed to revel in the stares of the men and was in no hurry to cover herself up. Eventually, however, she got into the bed and the rehearsal commenced. For the rest of that day until we went home in the evening Jacqui didn't put her clothes back on. All the men were treated to the sight of my wife displaying herself openly. The bedroom love scene with Ken is only a couple of minutes in the play but seemed to take hours to rehearse that day as Ken was allowed time after time to feel her breasts and ass and then lay her on the bed and eventually lie on top of her to simulate sex.

I'm sure all the men watching were turned on by the action on stage, because every man loves to see a pretty girl being made love to. I know I was turned on too by seeing my young wife naked with another man. Several times I had to adjust my trousers, especially when Ken lay naked on top of Jacqui and began moving his body up and down for realism. We all noticed that Ken was sporting a semi hard on when he dismounted from Jacqui each time and on one occasion I could see his thickening member lying between her engorged pussy lips, which was partly due to Jacqui raising her legs around Ken's waist, which wasn't actually called for in the script.

Our director called for a coffee break as Ken lay between Jacqui's spread thighs, his buttocks rising and falling gently. It was my duty that day to do the coffee and it was a peculiar feeling handing mugs of steaming coffee around as my wife lay in bed with another man. As I took theirs over to them I noticed that Ken had pulled the covers over their naked bodies but that he was still lying on top of Jacqui. I also noticed that Ken's body was still moving up and down in the simulation of sex, perhaps more so than it was earlier. Ken turned to me and grinned as I placed their mugs by the side of the bed. I knelt down by the head of the bed intending to talk to Jacqui during the break and it was then that I noticed the flushed look on her face. It suddenly dawned on me that they weren't simulating sex, Ken was actually fucking my wife as I knelt beside them. I felt such a fool for not realising sooner what they were doing. I felt humiliated and didn't know quite what to do. In the end I did nothing and just knelt there as Ken's movements under the sheets became more and more obvious. At one stage Jacqui began to make small crying noises as Ken brought her to a climax. It is to my shame that it was me who covered her mouth with my hand to quieten her. With my hand on her mouth I could feel her shudders as the orgasm took her, I could also feel the vibrations as Ken ejaculated into her at the same time.

It must have been obvious to everyone else in the hall what was going on. I felt totally humiliated by the situation but I also had a raging hard on in my trousers. Ken actually said thank you to me as I took my hand away from Jacqui's mouth. There was further *********** as, a few minutes later, Ken pushed the covers back and lifted himself off my wife. I think all the men present probably saw him slip his long cock out of Jacqui's hole. He certainly wasn't hiding anything as he walked across to the front of the stage to talk with his mates. His foreskin was pulled back and the head of his cock was glistening with his and Jacqui's love juices. There was even a small string of cum still hanging from the tip of his cock. He was making it clear to all his friends that he had just fucked my wife.

Like the cuckolded husband that I was, I helped my freshly fucked wife to her feet. Worse was to follow, as I took her hand to lead her away to the cloakroom I noticed that there was a large wet stain in the centre of the bed. Ken's cum had already started to run from my wife's stretched pussy and more of it ran down her thighs as we walked to the side of the stage. At one point Jacqui actually put her hand between her legs to stop the flow dripping onto the wooden floor of the stage. Her hand came away coated in Ken's cum. I was shocked when she absentmindedly put the fingers to her mouth to clean them.

My face was burning with embarrassment at the episode but I was also so turned on that when we reached the cloakroom I pulled Jacqui inside and, without bothering to close the door properly, I turned her around and bent her over the wash basin. I kept one hand on her back as I released my penis from my pants and in one movement I slipped straight into her from behind. I couldn't believe how wet she was. I was also amazed that she seemed so loose, there was little or no feeling from the walls of her cunt. Ken must have really stretched her when he fucked her because my rock hard cock was hardly touching the edges. I thought I might have difficulty cumming in such a large, stretched hole but it was when I glanced down and saw my cock covered with another mans cum that I suddenly started shooting my load into her.

Jacqui and I got ourselves cleaned up after that. We had a quick kiss and cuddle and she said she was glad that I'd fucked her after Ken because it showed that I wasn't mad at her. We kissed again and made our way back to the stage.

The remainder of the day went by fairly quickly. It was later, when we got home, that we next spoke about what had happened. I admitted that it had turned me on. Jacqui, for her part, admitted that she found Ken very attractive and had been fantasising about him for some time. She apologised for acting like a slut in front of our friends, but I surprised myself by saying that I liked her acting like that. I asked Jacqui what it felt like to have had another cock inside her as she had been a virgin when we had met. She told me that although she still loved me, she also loved the feel of Ken's much larger cock inside her. She said he had really filled her and that she could actually feel him inside her which she couldn't always with me. We made love well into the night with Jacqui eventually bringing me off with her hand because she said she felt too sore to have me inside her.

From that Saturday onwards there was very little pretence that Ken wasn't actually fucking my wife at every opportunity. Whether it was as part of the rehearsal for the play or during the breaks in between Ken would shove his fat cock up my darling wife. After each rehearsal of the bedroom scene the sheets would need to be changed as Ken deposited his spunk up my wife and a spreading wet patch would be evident on the bed.

Often I would go home on my own as Ken drove Jacqui off to his flat to continue their lovemaking on into the night. She would come home to me in the early hours of the following morning with his cum still running down her legs.

I had stopped fucking Jacqui myself by this time. First of all she was getting no pleasure from it because she couldn't feel my little cock inside her stretched hole anymore. Secondly, she had developed a habit of sliding her shaven pussy over my face as soon as she returned home to me and I would shoot my load onto my stomach as I sucked her long cunt lips into my mouth. The taste and feel of Ken's spunk as it ran from her hole and dripped from her raw looking lips onto my face was too much and my hand would drift down to my hard cock and I would bring myself off with a few strokes.

It had taken only a matter of a few weeks for me to change from a normal married man to this stranger who waited at home while his wife went off with her lover and then performed oral sex on her after she returned. Our week long stint at the local theatre went well and we got rave reviews from the local press. Apparently they liked the realism of some of the scenes. Jacqui was now a changed woman. She loved the attention she was getting and she admitted later that exposing herself on stage before a couple of hundred people really turned her on. I'm not sure if the audience realised that she was getting fucked on stage each night but the rest of the cast and stage hands certainly knew. I only found out later that she had let two other men have access to her body during the run of the show. One was the director, Gavin, the other was Ted who worked the curtains.

Since that show approximately half the cast have had sex with my wife, some on a regular basis and others as a one off. All our friends are aware of Jacqui's infidelities and most of them are also aware that my sexual preference these days is to use my tongue on my wife's well fucked cunt. There is nothing more pleasurable than the feel of Jacqui straddling my face with her slimy cunt and seeing her raw red pussy lips running with another mans cum.

Naughty girl otk for wooden paddle

Jamilla’s crucifixion

Jamilla was already awake when the sunlight entered her cell. After the Romans had captured her a week ago at the villa of her master, they had locked her up in there. They had stripped her and tied her up tightly, her hands behind her back, she was forced to sit here in this dark cell. She have had a lot of time to think about what has happened, and, more important, the things to come. At first she had been scared to death by the thought of being crucified, but right now she had found peace with it. Jamilla knew what she had done, and she also knew that she deserved nothing better. There was no doubt that, if she was to be killed, it would happen out there for every one to see. She was just to beautiful to let her die in here. After all she was the most beautiful girl in and around the city, In fact the thought of starving in here scared her even more than a public humiliation. Being tied up all the time and at least raped and tortured, imagine taht! No, no, all well considered, crucifixion was the best she could hope for. At least her pain would be over in a few days instead of years. She didn’t dare to think that the soldiers wouldn’t come for her.

But then the door opened and a couple of men gave entered her cell and removed the ropes from her hands and feet. Jamilla felt some sort of relief when she left the cell. They would not let her starve. Thus far she had been very lucky. It was only now that she realized that nobody had abused her until now. She wasn’t raped, she hadn’t been whipped. The fact of being nude don’t scare her, as a slave girl she has experienced this form of humilation many times, it was usual for the female to walk nude trough the city up tot he crucifixion side, while the men are allowed to wear a loincloth.

As they came out of the dark hallways into the inner yard of the camp, Jamilla spotted a long, thin, wooden cross lying on the ground. “Pick it up!” one of the soldiers said. Jamilla walked towards the cross and lifted it on her shoulder. There was no use in trying to resist, which would only make it worse for her. Two soldiers came standing next to her and one of them hung a wooden plate around her neck with her name, her age and her crime carved in it. Jamilla expected them to push her forward in to the streets of the city, but they didn’t. Both of the soldiers were looking at a little door behind them. As Jamilla looked at it as well, she saw an other soldier coming out with a hammer, a ladder and a basket with nails. Long heavy spikes…

“So it ’s going to be a full nailing” Jamilla said to herself. Until now she had hoped that they would only use ropes or at least only nail her hands, but as she could count more than two nails, she knew she wouldn’t be that lucky. The soldier loaded the gear on a donkey and the other two gave Jamilla a gentile push on her shoulder. “Let’s go.” They said and the campgates opened.

Jamilla carried her cross through the narrow streets of the city. It wasn’t very heavy but despite the early hour the sun was already shining hot. As she came closer to the crucifixion site, more and more people were watching and following her, yelling things at her. She noted the views of the men, on her slim body, her well-shaped breasts, with the long nipples. Her master has pierced them years ago, she has to wear rings there, and the nipples has grown considerably. Except her long hair, her body has been shaved completely, even if the pubic hair has started to grow back, her crotch is visible for everyone.

“Look at you, you stupid basterds,” Jamilla said to herself “ shouldn’t you be working? No you just want to see me suffer, you want to hear me scream on the cross, you want to see the extreme fear in my eyes when they nail me to it. Well screw you! You think I’m afraid but I’m not, you think I’ll beg them for mercy, beg them not to nail my feet, but you’re wrong, wrong, wrong! I won’t. In fact I’ll show you that it doesn’t scare me, I’ll show you how a proud girl faces her destiny!”

As she took the last turn to the marketplace, Jamilla felt this strange sensation in her underbelly. She knew she was walking her last few steps ever. On the market place, one of the soldiers gave the order to stop right in the middle of the square. She let her cross slip to the ground, took a few steps back and looked at the people that came to see her humiliation. One soldier held a hand on her shoulder and took back the wooden plate as the other one unpacked the gear. The third one began to declare her verdict and why she deserved it. During that time Jamilla realized that the strange feeling in her underbelly wasn’t fear as she thought it was, but pleasure. Her crotch has become wet, she noticed it. Every single person on the square wanted to see her young, nude body exposed on the cross. She knew she turned on every man that came to see her today, but none of them would ever have her. She would remain an unreachable ideal forever. She knew she could give them a spectacle they would never forget, that would make every other women look like durt.

Right now Jamilla realized that her time had come. The third soldier reached the end of his speech.

Jamilla knew what she had to do, she would show the crowd she was not afraid. Slowly she walked towards the cross, looking at the soldiers. Then she turned around, looked at he crowd and went lying down on her cross. Before one of the soldiers could grab her, she placed both of her wrists on the crossbeam, waiting for the nails.

The soldier that was going to nail her held back his two accompagnons. “No, no, don’t grab her. I want to see if she really can take this.” Jamilla looked at him as he put the first heavy spike right on top of her wrist. There was no one holding her wrists in place, yet she did not pulled them away, when the soldier raised his hammer for the first blow. Jamilla looked closely as the point of the first nail was driven into her wrist. “Aagh!” The pain was more than unbearable, it didn’t just stay in her wrist. Like water spilled on a flat stone, the pain started to run in various directions, all through her body. Yet the nail had only cut a few muscles and flesh. Right now he was only pushing on her wristbones, slightly driving them apart. As much as Jamilla was suffering, she couldn’t move her arms. She could only watch how the hammer came down a second time. This time the nail crushed her wristbones. Jamilla could feel the couldnes of the steel against her bones. Again she could not hold back a short scream. The pain had now turned into a supernatural form of agony. One of the soldiers who was standing next to the cross, noticed how Jamilla was rubbing her beautiful bare feet over the sand in a useless attempt to lighten the pain. Although the nail hadn’t reached the beam yet, she managed to keep her tortured wrist in place. Her most beautiful body was already covered with sweat when the hammer came down for the third time. Finally the nail came out of her wrist again and made his first contact with the crossbeam. Jamilla felt a bit relieved because she thought the wrist part was over. Once the nail was through, it would be easier to bare. But she was wrong. The hardness of the wood made it very hard to finish the job. The executioner needed six more blows to get her wrist fully nailed to the beam, every blow causing Jamilla more and more pain in addition to the already unbearable agony…

At the first blow, Jamilla had pulled back her second wrist. “Aagh!” A short scream escaped her mouth every time the nail went deeper. Finally the last blow was given and the executioner stood up. Shortly he admired his work, then he walked over to the other side of the beam to nail her other wrist. Jamilla didn’t know how she did it, but she had managed not to cry. Although only one of the four nails was in place, she was already covered with sweat. She looked at her unnailed wrist once more, then she placed it on the crossbeam as she saw the executioner approached with the second nail. He looked at her beautiful young face while he went across her wrist with his fingers to locate the bones. When he found the right spot, he place the nail on it, held his hammer high up in the sky. Then he waited for a moment to see if Jamilla really wouldn’t pull down her arm now that she knew what it felt like to have one nailed wrist. Then he started his horrible job.

Jamilla thought she knew what she had to expect, but no one could ever get used to a sudden explosion of pure pain like that. Again her short screams filled the air, again her beautiful bare feet rubbed against the sand, but yet the agony seemed like at least a thousand times worse. Again she felt how the nail crushed some of her bones and drove others apart. It was in this pure sensation of nothing-but-absolute-agony- that Jamilla realized something strange. With every blow she screamed her little “AaAgh’s” as a message to every one on the square that she couldn’t take it any more. But now she realized, as her pain reached a new, horrible peak with every other blow that she wanted more. Though the agony made it quite impossible to keep her wrist in place, as long as the nail hadn’t pinned it to the wood, Jamilla realized she was able to do so, because she loved it. From this moment one, she could kill and love the executioner for what he was doing to her at the same time. She hated and admired him because he was able of hurting her like this. Though her agony reached unknown hights with every blow, she couldn’t wait for the next one. She watched closely how the nail disappeared deeper into her wrist and into the wood. When the executioner stood up after the nailing, Jamilla felt relieved and disappointed at the same time. Her body was under tension, shivering, excited, despite the heat her nipples remain hard all the time, and she notes that her juice has started to leak.

Jamilla looked at her beautiful nude body as the soldiers made preparations to pull up the cross. With her arms spread out like this above her head and her legs a bit opened to feel the sand under her feet for the last time, both her beautiful small breasts with their long and hard nipples and shaven pubic were exposed to the crowd. Yet Jamilla felt no shame, she felt only pain and a deep desire for more pain. Two soldiers were tying ropes to both ends of the crossbeam while the third one was placing some small pieces of wood at the bottom of the longpole so that the cross wouldn’t slide over the sand when they tried to raise it. Then they attached the ropes to their donkey as well. Then the executioner kneeled down at Jamilla’s feet. He grabbed them by the ankles and measured the length of her legs. He placed her feet on the longpole, right next to each other, so that her legs were slightly bent. He looked at it, changed the pose a bit, released her feet and carved a little bit of wood out of the pole, where he wanted her feet to be when he nailed them. Jamilla had observed his actions very well. For a moment she thought he was going to nail her feet before they raised the cross. She had loved the feeling of his hand around her feet. The two soldiers made the donkey pull up the cross while the executioner made sure the longpole would slip into the hole that was dug for it. As they raised her cross and her feet left the ground for the last time, Jamilla felt how her weight was no longer carried by the thin longpole but only by the two spikes that pierced her wrists. She had to scream. Little yelps of both extreme agony and pleasure escaped her mouth while the donkey was raising her cross. As her cross was almost in a complete vertical position, Jamilla spotted the carve made by the executioner to indicate the intended position of her feet. While the soldiers were making sure the cross wouldn’t fall back if they cut the ropes, Jamilla tried out her final footpose. With her feet against the longpole and her legs opened widely because of the roundness of the longole, she decided that it was both a humiliating and an exciting pose. Jamilla looked at her elegant ankles and her adorable toes. Soon her most beautiful feet would be nailed. To feel once more the pain of really hanging on a cross, she moved her legs away from the longpole, so that they were just hanging on either side of it. Now the executioner placed his ladder against the cross and climbed up to fulfill his duty.

As the executioner reached the final step of the ladder, Jamilla lowered her left foot and placed it right on the spot the executioner wanted it to be. He put the nail right on the most central spot of her foot, slightly adapted its pose so that the toes were really pointing towards the ground. Then he began the nailing. Once again Jamilla experienced a wave of fresh agony running through her body. Again she felt how the nail pushed against the bones of her foot and crushed them with the second blow. Again she let out her little yells every time the nail went a bit deeper. Even when the nail entered the wood after the third blow, she didn’t dare to put any weight on it. Her foot was causing her the same amount of agony as both her wrists. Oooh, she loved crucifixion right now; She thanked the people that invented this heavenly torture from the bottom of her heart as the final blows were given. As the executioner finished the nailing of her left foot, Jamilla felt a bit sad. Now her other foot was the only thing left. After that, her agony would slowly fade away … So she put her other foot right next to her nailed one. The executioner brought out the last nail. Jamilla closed her eyes as her bully raised his hammer. Very intensely she tried to analyze the waves of pain that were caused by the final spike. As the bones of her right foot were crushed she couldn’t hold back a small yelp. Also when she felt how the nail tore the skin of here sole apart, she simply had to release a little “ Ôah!” As the nail was driven further into her foot and the wood of the longpole, Jamilla first realized she was being put to death in the most cruel, horrible and agonizing way known in the whole of the Roman Empire, and that she just loved it. The soldier smashed the nail a bit deeper for the last time. Then he went down a few steps and nailed the wooden plate that quoted Jamill’s crime, name and age to the longpole, right underneath her beautiful, nailed feet. “Jamilla, twenty one year old, blonde slave, murder, theft and arson.” Then he stepped down, took away his ladder and together with one of his fellows he went back to the camp. The third one staid to guard Jamilla so that no one would get her down of there.

Although it had seamed a lot longer, her crucifixion had only taken half an hour. Now most of the spectators resumed their work on the market. For Jamilla, the real horror of crucifixion was about to begin. Right now she realized that the pain in her wrists became too much to bare, even for someone who loved it, so Jamilla had to push up on her feet. Putting her entire weight on the nails piercing her feet caused her a wonderful amount of pain, yet she had to let go, if she didn’t want to faint, and she fell back on her wrists. But very soon, again, the pain in her wrists forced her to retry the push up. The Romans had spiked her in a very ingenious way. By bending her legs just a little bit, Jamilla had to face the problem where to put her weight, but she couldn’t suffocate that easy. As she looked around to see what the other people who had watched her crucifixion were doing. Some people were still looking at her, pointing out to each other how well she was nailed. Jamilla herself was also admiring the work of her bully. While she was at it, she saw that she wasn’t bleeding as much as she thought. The only blood Yamilla saw was the blood that had run out of the wounds when the nails were still driven in. Meanwhile the soldier that staid behind walked over to the fountain and took a drink. He didn’t return to the cross but went strait to one of the stalls on the market. He decided to watch over her from there, in the shadow. On the cross, Jamilla was exposed to the sun. Very slowly her bronzed skin was burning. As she saw the guard take a drink, Jamilla became aware of her own thirst. She wondered whether she could ask for some water as well. After a while her thirst became so big she decided to risk it. “Can…can I have some water to, please…?” she moaned. The guard fulfilled her request and put a cup filled with water on the top of his spear. Jamilla drunk it all and asked for more several times, especially around noon when the sun was burning every drop of liquid out of her.

Jamilla now realized that the pain wasn’t fading away at all. She didn’t know why but the spikes kept hurting her as much as they did when they were driven into place. She looked once more to the nails piercing her body. As she could clearly feel, al four of them were smashed through some bones. “I wonder…” she thought. Jamilla tried to move her fingers, but some of them didn’t react to her command. Also her toes weren’t completely movable. The sight of the spikes entering her feet and wrists fascinated her. Jamilla tried to reach the head of the nails in her wrists. Her fingers could only touch the top of the nails. Her excitement still remains, and her crotch has started to leak, she notes the liquid running down the lips, and the it drops down to the sand.

As the sun went down and the market became empty, Jamilla first realized she would never leave her cross again. Even her corpse would be left up there after she died. She wondered what it would be like, if she died. Would she pass out and never awake again? She didn’t know.

Jamilla’s first night on the cross was filled with agony. There was now way of getting some sleep up there. If the pain didn’t keep her awake, then the coldness of the night would make sure she didn’t sleep. The hours passed slowly, way to slowly, but when Jamilla finally thought she was used to it, the first rays of sunlight announced a new day….

As the market became crowded again, people returned to her cross to see how she was doing. "You 're realy enjoying this, aren't you?" Jamilla managed to ask her public. Of course they did. "Guess what," Jamilla moaned as a reply, "so do I..."

According to some spectators who had seen a few crucifixions already, Jamilla was “dancing” real nice. She was pushing herself up on the spikes piercing her feet and falling back on her wrists al the time. Even if she didn’t had to push up to get some fresh air, she still forced herself to do so. It largely increased her pain. It was her second day on the cross, but Jamilla felt far from exhausted. Now she knew why she hadn’t been raped or whipped: If she were still strong when they nailed her to her cross, she would last longer. Once again Jamilla looked at her beautiful body. The nails fascinated her, how they disappeared in her wrists and feet. Only four nails, but they put her in hell. Right now the thought crossed her mind that despite of the fact that she had been drinking quite a lot yesterday, she didn’t have to pee. The sun burned away every single drop of liquid, even the water from the fountain. In the afternoon, Jamilla felt how she was becoming weaker and weaker, how the pain slowly faded. Right now she wished she could live through it al again, from the cell, to the first nail, the moment of triumph when she exposed her completely nude body to the overwhelmed crowd, the nailing of her wrists and feet, her complete crucifixion. Later that day Jamilla lost conscience. She didn’t saw how a rich salesman paid of the guarding soldier and ordered his men to get Jamilla down from her cross. She didn’t even realized the nails were pulled out.

Jamilla looked out of the window as the sun came up. Six months had passed since her crucifixion. Her wounds had completely healed. The salesman had dropped her of at one of his houses in a small village while she was still unconscious. An other girl slave had told her everything. She had never seen him until now. He was standing in the inner yard, saying goodbye to someone. Then he entered Jamilla’s room. “You’re so beautiful” he said. “You’re so beautiful that you can ask me anything. Ask me and I’ll do it!” Jamilla looked at him as he touched her face. “Well, there is one thing you could do…” She answered.

Later that morning, the entire village watched how Jamilla publicly undressed herself. Completely nude, she walked over to the cross and went lying down on it. She smiled at the salesman as he approached with the hammer and the nails. “Nail me!” she said.

I have to tell as many people as I can about the night I've had, but first, a little background...
I've been married barely a year now. I met my now wife when she was a freshman and I was a senior but we didn't start dating until her senior year, rushing to get married when she graduated. Our wedding night was proof enough that I was her first and things couldn't have been better.
Except I'm a guy who's had... Experience. Sometimes I want things she hasn't experienced yet.
Well, that changed last week. She was already in the shower and I was getting ready to join her. Let me paint you a picture: Long red hair, reaching her hips. A toned, pale, slender body with freckles that stop just above her 36 C cup tits. Petite, pink nipples that become rock hard at a moments notice. Long, luscious legs on a 5'11" body weighing barely 130lb and an ass you can GRAB!

Anyway, she's in the shower. We'd recently had a fight over something stupid, how much I spend on games and beer. In the end we both apologized, but out of nowhere she says "I love you so much, you know that, right?"

I answer "Sure" but she seems to be on a roll. "No, really. I'd do anything for you. You'd just have to ask and I'd do it because its you."

...Oh really?

I decide to question her. Like what? I could ask for a threesome and it wouldn't matter if I wanted another guy or another girl? I could set up a webcam and let someone watch us screw? I could ask her to become a cam girl?

Every question is answered with "Yes". An apprehensive yes, but still a yes. My mind comprehend this. I start planning. I have to test this.

I call my friends, organize a get together for tonight, Friday, Dec 13th, 2013. Just the guys, three in total and I make four. I tell the to bring drinks and plan on a wild night and they do, from Crown Royal to Nat. Ice to Coors and everything in between. I tell them to pretend its July 4th and they deliver.
Once they get there, however, it's just me and the wife waiting and they ask me what the fuck is going on. I tell them to shut up and drink and I turn on the TV. Happy Gilmore is playing for some reason. Fuck it, it's all good.

I make sure the wife is matching my friends, drink for drink, waiting for the inevitable. Then it happens. The iPod is out, the tit pics are found and they all think they're being discreet about it. I've held back from drinking so far, making me the only sober one here but I don't care. The payoff will be worth it. My wife notices the pictures and starts to look uncomfortable so I lean in close and whisper in her ear.

"Honey, I don't really want to see other women naked, I want to see you. Why don't you strip for us?"

The reaction is immediate. Shock, confusion, but I keep my cool. If I break now, it'll all fall apart. I have to keep it together.

"Please? You're the only one I ever want to see naked and if the guys see what you look like, I think they'll understand why. Please, honey? This is something I really want."

I felt like I held my breath for a year after I finished speaking. Her eyes felt like they were burning into mine, Happy Gilmore just rediscovered his Happy Place, my friends were focused on a picture of Gianna Michaels.

Finally, I get a response. A flash of memory, a drunken smile and a cheeky grin.

"If that's what you want, babe."

She's up, standing in front of the TV. No one notices until she lifts her Baby Doll Fear Factory tee over her head and let's it drop to the floor and then ALL eyes are on her. I swear, even Adam Sandler is watching. She's wearing a tight fitting pair of denim jeans that show off her ass, but she's unzipping those now, too, clumsily slipping off her sneakers to take her pants of entirely. Now she's standing in front of us in her red lace bra and panties and white socks that just cover her ankles. She reaches back and looks at me. I nod. She unhooks her bra, slipping it off.

My friends look at me, eyes wide, disbelieving and preparing for the worst.

I nod.

It's on.

They're off the couch now, running they're hands over her body. I can't blame them that they focus almost exclusively on her chest. Her nipples are being pinched, tweaked, kissed and sucked. I can see her starting to breathe harder, hear her start to whimper. I find myself imagining what this pretty pink nipples would look like if I asked her to pierce them.

One of my friends, Jeremy, hooks his fingers under my wife's panties and slips them down to her ankles. I've never asked or wanted her to shave her pussy, I prefer the benefits of a natural redhead.
He slips his hand between her legs and starts massaging her pussy. I know she's wet, I can by looking at how she reacts and moans at his touch. Her legs open slightly and I see him extend two fingers. They both look at me.

I nod.

He slips his fingers inside her pussy and she moans louder than she has yet tonight. My other friends, Aaron and Rick, now have their dicks out and are tugging themselves furiously while they lick, suck and kiss my wife's tits. Jeremy is frantically trying to work his fly with one hand.

Suddenly Rick takes some control and puts a hand on her head, pushing her down. My wife, Alicia, finds herself on her hands and knees, Jeremy has moved to position himself behind her so he can still finger her pussy. Rick is on his knees too, his cock is inches from Sarah's face. Aaron doesn't want to be left out and follows Rick's lead. Jeremy moves his face closer toward Sarah's pussy. They all look at me.

I nod.

Sarah wraps her lips around Rick's shaft. Not long after, Jeremy buries his face in her pussy and she moans onto Rick's cock and he moans in pleasure. Supporting herself with her left hand, Sarah wraps her right hand around Aaron's cock. I can't help but admit that my friends are well enough endowed, between 6 and 8 inches for the three of them.
This is how things continue for a while, Sarah sucking cock and being eaten out, each of my friends switching out and taking a turn. Finally, the true moment arrives. Aaron pulls back from licking Sarah's pussy and kneels behind her, pressing his cock against her pussy. She feels it and stops, taking Jeremy's cock out of her mouth. They all look at me.

I beckon Sarah towards me with a single finger. She crawls forward on her hands and knees, worried. I unzip my pants and pull out my cock, guiding her lips to the head and pushing her mouth down over my shaft. She gets the idea and starts sucking.
I beckon my friends forward with the same finger. They come forward and Aaron positions himself at the entrance to Sarah's pussy once again.

I nod.

He slides his cock into her pussy. Sarah moans and I feel it on my cock. I'm so hard at this point I don't know how long I'll last, but Sarah's attention is elsewhere. The blowjob is good, but then again having a mouth wrapped around your pole is never a bad thing. But it isn't enough to tip me over. She's mostly moaning while Aaron slams into her from behind. He doesn't last long and I knew he wouldn't. My wife is tight and has a natural talent for milking a cock with her pussy. He thrusts as deep as he can into my wife's pussy, cumming hard. Rick is next. He doesn't last long either. Neither does Jeremy.

I know that her pussy is dripping with cum by now and I can see her legs starting to shake. I reach in between the couch cushions, I'd planed for this. I pull out a small, bullet vibrator and hand it to Sarah. She knows what to do. I grab her head and take control.

It's the way that she moans when she cums that sends me over the edge. She can't hold herself up and she falls forward, deep throating my cock in the process. I'm not worried, though. This part is normal, we've done it hundreds of times before. I cum in the back of her throat and she swallows, just like always. Sarah's ways been a squirter, so I don't work about the mess on the wooden floor. We have paper towels.

I finally look around for my fiends. NOW they think to pull their phones out!
Sarah looks up at me and moans in satisfaction. I find myself thinking about the buy chick at work who always irate with me. Then again, her sister is pretty cute too. I think pussy is the next item on her menu.

Hey motherless, I am looking for a very special video, it is a young teen girl in her kitchen it looks like. she is in a wooden chair in shorts and a hoodie it is about 5 minutes long, she is striping and teasing, showing her panties, she had dark hard, i need to find this, if anyone has it please send the link, thank you !